


Shooting the Moon

by FandomDivergentChildofAkyls



Series: New Moon [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Adopted Sibling Relationship, Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. References, Alternate Universe - Mob, Bathing/Washing, Canon-Typical Violence, Drug Dealing, F/M, Found Family, Grief/Mourning, Gun Violence, Gunshot Wounds, Kissing, Minor Character Death, Minor Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov, Minor Skye | Daisy Johnson/Grant Ward, Minor Wanda Maximoff/Vision, Mutual Pining, Organized Crime, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Romani Pietro Maximoff, Romani Wanda Maximoff, Sassy Rebecca Barnes, Sewing, Uncle Pietro rights, Watch me make up medical procedures, Weddings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-21 01:27:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30014013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FandomDivergentChildofAkyls/pseuds/FandomDivergentChildofAkyls
Summary: | Part 2 of my New Moon series, Pietro's story. |Pietro Django Maximoff has a good life. He's the older twin sibling of Wanda Django Maximoff, and he's known as Quicksilver to the Irish, Romanian, and Russian mobs- Uncle Pietro to his nephews Billy and Tommy, and his niece- Talia Pierce.Sure, he's apart of the mob.Sure, he's been wanting to secretly punch Steven Grant Rogers, the leader of the Irish mob, and James Buchanan Barnes, the leader of the Romanian and Russian mobs since the woman he sees as a sister and Talia have been staying at the Romanoff-Barton household after an attack from Hydra.Sure, Hydra's been fucking up his life and killing off mob members, Pietro's certain the three mobs can take down the organization.But the thing that's been on his mind is that Daisy Johnson's getting married to Grant Ward. And he's in love with her adopted sister- you.Will Pietro be able to manage his family?Will the three mobs be able to take down Hydra?And will Pietro manage to convince you that you're perfect for each other?
Relationships: Pietro Maximoff/Reader
Series: New Moon [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2140434
Kudos: 3





	Shooting the Moon

**Author's Note:**

> | Hello everyone! Welcome to part 2 of my New Moon saga, Pietro's story. This one will be a deeper dive into the missing pieces of Satellite Heart that I'm going to be explaining more in here since Daisy's sister will be playing a bigger role towards the end of that fanfic. And because I really miss Pietro Maximoff and I wished ATJ had more screentime as Pietro. 
> 
> Unlike Talia's story, this /does/ follow the plot of Satellite Heart. I'll be adding more of the mob's shenanigans, as well as more sassy Rebecca Barnes, cause who doesn't love Bucky's younger sister? 
> 
> I'll probably be capping this at 5 chapters to start off with and adding more as I go. Just to make my life easier, haha.
> 
> Chapter 1 does start off a few months before our current events, and then we're gonna go right into a timeskip during the wedding rehearsal. 
> 
> Bold is for Romani, bold and underline are for Ukrainian, and italics is for Russian as always. Thank you as always for your continued support!

"Uncle Pietro!" 

Talia Pierce had heard the doorbell ring, and she had immediately rushed to the door and opened it. She looked up at the silver-haired man, looking at the blue eyes that he had inherited from his late father, Max Eisenhardt. The toffee-skinned, Romani man gazed down at the blue eyes that reminded him so much of Steve Rogers. Talia's lips had stretched into a smile. 

Steve's smile. Her mother's curious-looking eyes. Chestnut hair that she had gotten from Bucky, tied into pigtails around her chubby face. 

**"There's my little princess!"** Pietro exclaimed in Romani, picking up his niece and spinning her around as he walked inside the apartment. Talia's squeals and shrieks of laughter were heard as Pietro put her down and closed the door behind him, making sure to lock it. He took off his shoes at the front. Talia's mother was really fickle about shoes at the front door, but Pietro didn't mind. He didn't like wearing shoes in the Romanoff-Barton mansion anyway. That was Steve's thing. 

Talia's mother had to stay late for work, so she had called Pietro for babysitting duty. Natasha, Clint, and Wanda were busy doing stuff for the mob. Not that they told Talia's mother. They didn't want to worry her. So Pietro was left to babysit his niece, which he had no problem with. 

Pietro loved his niece. Just as much as he loved her mother like she was another sister. 

_"Uncle Pietro? Do you wanna see my volcano?"_ Talia asked excitedly in Russian. Pietro gave her a look of surprise. He gasped dramatically. 

_"A volcano? Has my little princess been hiding secrets from me? Are you going to make a big volcano for your science class?"_ Pietro replied, interested. Talia beamed, nodding her head as she tugged onto her Uncle Pietro's sleeve, guiding him through the apartment into her room. 

Talia's room looked like your average seven-year-old's room. There was a twin bed against the left side of the wall, a desk that was close to the right side of the window, and a dresser a couple of feet away on the right. Her desk had her science experiment on it. Talia had already finished the molding of her volcano and was going to paint it black. It was on top of a piece of cardboard. Pietro only watched in rapt interest as Talia clamored him over, pointing out her volcano and explaining it in rapid detail. 

Posters of all the different Star Wars movies were scattered around her room. A movie poster of _The Empire Strikes Back_ was right above her bed. Pietro sat on his niece’s bed while she sat in her chair, pointing out certain things to him. 

“... And this is where the baking soda mixture is going to go! Right in here! You see that hole there Uncle Pietro?” Talia said, pointing her index finger inside the volcano. “I see it, angel. Is that where the baking soda mixture is gonna go?” Pietro asked her. Talia giggled and nodded happily. “Uh-huh!” The seven-year-old replied, “Baking soda and vinegar! Mommy says more vinegar makes a bigger explosion!” She exclaimed.

Pietro was very happy that Talia’s mother encouraged her daughter to expand her mind. His little niece absorbed everything she knew like a sponge. He was certain she’d go places. Wanda, his younger twin had told him that Natasha was betting that Talia would turn out to be a forensic scientist. 

“Your mommy’s right. More vinegar means a bigger explosion. She’s very wise,” Pietro nodded in agreement. “Mommy’s the best,” Talia agreed with him. And then Pietro’s phone started to ring. Giving Talia an apologetic smile, Pietro kissed his niece on the top of her head and walked out of her room and into the living room. 

Pulling out his phone, his caller ID read **_Steve._ ** Huffing, Pietro answered. 

**“Yeah? Kinda caught me at a bad time.”** Pietro spoke in Romani. 

**“We need you to do the drop tonight,”** Steve said in what could only be described as his “Captain” voice. 

**“What time? I’m a little preoccupied, Cap.”** Pietro replied, turning around so he could see Talia’s open door. He heard her giggles down the hall. Steve must’ve heard them through the phone, because then he asked, **“What was that? You got a kid I don’t know about?”**

Rolling his eyes, the silver-haired man replied, **“Even if I did, I wouldn’t tell ya shit. Now can ya tell me what time?”** He didn’t mean to be snappish. 

Okay, maybe he did. 

Talia was Steve and Bucky’s child, after all. Pietro still held a tiny grudge over the two of them ghosting Talia’s mother like that.

 **“Around eight-thirty,”** Steve replied. Pietro checked the time on his iPhone. 

_Three PM._

Talia’s mother was going to come back at around five. He had time. 

**“The same dropoff spot?”** Pietro finally asked. **“Yeah,”** Steve said. 

**“Alright. I gotta go. I’ll be there. Okay. Alright. Uh-huh. Bye Cap.”** Pietro hung up, walking back over to Talia’s room. She was still sitting down at her desk and was drawing something. 

“Whatcha drawing Talia?” Pietro asked as he sat back down on her bed. Talia frowned, grabbing a brown crayon and coloring in something. 

“Trying to figure out what daddy looks like.” 

Pietro paused. Talia looked at him, and Pietro peered to look at the drawing she was making. It was a picture of her and her mother. Stick figures. It made Pietro smile. Just a little. 

“Does your mommy have pictures of your daddy?” Pietro asked. Her mother always never seemed to have pictures of Steve and Bucky hung around the apartment. He never knew what she had done with them. 

_Did she burn them?_

_Did she have them in a box somewhere?_

_Were they still at the Pierce home?_

Talia shook her head. 

“No,” Talia replied, almost mournfully. “I wish she did though. I wanna know… what they looked like. Or at least meet them,” she replied sadly. Pietro opened his arms out, beckoning her over for a hug. Talia slumped off of her chair and into his lap. Her arms wrapped around his neck. Her head in his shoulder. Then, she began to cry. 

“Shhh,” Pietro whispered, stroking her hair, like how he did when she had been born. 

“It’s alright, Talia. You’re going to be alright.” He soothed her. 

“I just wanna meet them, Uncle Pietro. I wanna meet my daddy,” Talia sniffed. Pietro just continued to stroke her hair as she continued to let it out. She cried into his shirt, her sobs filling the room. 

“Don’t worry. I’m sure you’ll meet them one day.” Pietro promised her. Talia sniffed as she looked up.

“Are you sure?” Talia looked almost hopeful. Pietro just smiled down at her softly, pressing a kiss to her forehead. He gave her a nod. Talia laid her head in her Uncle Pietro’s shoulder, and eventually, she fell asleep in his lap. Pietro had to move her to her bed, gently laying her down and tucking her in. 

It was around five PM when Talia’s mother came home. Pietro was sitting on the couch, and he looked up from his phone. Talia’s mother looked at him with what looked to be relief in her eyes. 

“Talia’s in her room,” he told her with a gentle smile. Talia’s mother breathed out a sigh of relief. 

“Oh thank fucking god,” Talia’s mother said, closing the door behind her and locking it. She walked over to Pietro and hugged him.

“Thank you for watching her. I don’t know what I’d without you, Pietro,” Talia’s mother sighed when the two of them broke apart from their hug. Pietro only gave her a coy smirk. 

“No prob,” Pietro shrugged. He kissed the top of her head. “I have to go. Urgent business,” he looked down at his phone. 

“Okay. Thanks for watching her, Pietro.” Talia’s mother smiled at him. Pietro smiled back. 

“Anything for you, little bird,” Pietro spoke as he made his way to the door, to put on his shoes. 

“Have a goodnight!” Was all he heard as he waved, unlocking the door and walking out, making sure to close it shut behind him. 

Pietro ducked into the Romanoff-Barton household around five-thirty. Steve and Bucky weren’t home. Natasha had told him when he had come through the doors that they had a business meeting they couldn’t get out of. It made him snort. 

_That was what they got for avoiding the meeting for the past month._ Pietro knew once the two mobsters got home, they’d bitch and moan about how boring it was.

It made him roll his eyes in the annoyance of it all. Natasha only echoed his annoyed look. 

“I told them to get the meeting done and over with Schmidt, but they didn’t listen to me.” Natasha sighed as she brought out a gallon of milk from the fridge, pouring it into her cup. 

“Since do they ever listen to you?” Pietro wondered sarcastically. “Ha, ha,” Natasha mocked him. Pietro just let out a snicker. 

“Now I’m stuck doing the dropoff tonight, while Clint takes you out on a date, and Wanda and Vision are at home with Billy and Tommy.” Pietro sighed dramatically. Natasha snorted into her cup of milk. 

“Why don’t you visit her? Daisy’s sister? After the dropoff?”

Pietro couldn’t help but feel the familiar feeling rush through him. But he just shrugged. 

“Maybe.” He replied casually, leaning against the counter. Natasha just gave him a look. Pietro just grumbled. 

“Fine. Tell Steve and Bucky I won’t be home tonight,” Pietro spoke as he started making his way up the stairs. 

“Use protection!” Natasha shouted. 

“Fuck you too Tasha!” Pietro shouted as he walked up the stairs to his room. The door slammed. Natasha snickered.

“Lighten up, Maximoff. You look like shit.” 

Pietro scowled. Tony Stark looked at him through the FaceTime call. Pietro’s iPhone was attached to the charger in the SUV that the mobs bought a long time ago. Pietro had been playing a Bring Me The Horizon song before he was rudely interrupted by Tony’s phone call. 

“Only because you interrupted my song, Tony. I was getting into it,” The man said as he rolled his eyes. 

“Well I’m sorry,” Tony replied sarcastically, “I didn’t know you were listening to music.” Pietro just scowled again as he stopped at a stoplight, leaning back into his seat. 

“I was,” snapped Pietro, “before you called me.” 

“Yeah? What were you listening to?” Tony asked, now curious. “Not AC/DC,” Pietro butted in when Tony opened his mouth. The stoplight turned green as Pietro stepped on the gas. 

“Aw c’mon! You can’t beat AC/DC! Their music is amazing! Legendary!” Tony complained as Pietro continued to drive through the streets of New York. Pietro just snorted. 

“I know,” the Romani man replied, “you talk about them all the time, Tony. I can never listen to one of their songs without hearing your screeching.” 

“It is not screeching!” Tony protested. 

“Yeah, I’m sure it isn’t,” Pietro muttered under his breath. 

“I heard that!” Tony shouted. Pietro cringed. 

“There’s no need to scream, Tony, Jesus. How’s Peter?” Pietro asked. Tony sighed, running his fingers through his hair. 

“Pete’s doing good. May says that he’s doing really well at Midtown. He and Ned are actually working with MJ on their physics project together.” Tony replied. Pietro only hummed, his eyes focused on the road.

“Wonder if Peter would like to meet her…” Pietro spoke under his breath as he thought about his niece. Talia would be eating dinner with her mother by now, or curled up with her mother on their couch, watching _Knives Out_ again for the millionth time. Pietro didn’t blame her, he loved the movie too. It had been Pietro to be the one to get his niece hooked on the thriller movie. What could he say? He loved the plot. All the twists and turns. 

And because of Marta. She reminded him so much of Daisy’s sister. His heart bloomed at the thought of her sister. 

Daisy Johnson, or Skye as her fiancée Grant called her, was getting married. In the church, per Alexander’s suggestion. From what Pietro knew from Daisy’s sister, the two of them weren’t really religious. Daisy had a single mother whose father bailed on them after she had turned five. Then when Daisy was ten, her mother had found her sister abandoned at a factory. Her sister had been five, all shivering from the cold.

Their mother had passed a couple of months ago. Pietro remembered being there in the church, holding onto Daisy’s sister as she broke down in front of the casket, screaming in grief. 

**_“No!” Pietro heard you scream. You were wailing now. Dressed in a black dress that fell to your knees, along with a veil that covered your face, tears rolled down._ **

**_You hadn’t stopped crying. All month it seemed all you did was cry._ **

**_Your mother- the only mother figure you had in your life was gone. You had never met Daisy’s father, and you really didn’t want to, from all the things Daisy and your mother had said about him. He sounded like a bitch, and you weren’t looking to complicate your life even further._ **

**_Nope. You felt strong arms wrap around you. Holding you. You choked out a sob as you were able to inhale the familiar cologne that screamed Pietro._ **

**_“No,” you whimpered, “let go of me.”_ **

**_“I can’t do that, Princess,” Pietro murmured in your ear, All you could do was cry against him. Pietro heard the priest saying something to him, probably to step away from the casket with you, but he didn’t care. You needed to be held. Comforted. He could move later._ **

Pietro spent hours and hours with you after that. He loved you, he truly did. But his feelings towards you weren’t what you had needed back then. You had needed a friend, someone to confide in. 

Daisy had Grant. Besides, they were getting married in a few months. They were busy. So for the last couple of months, when Pietro wasn’t doing things for the mob, he was with you. Hanging out with you. Being a shoulder you could cry on. 

Really, Pietro would be fine if you two had wanted to stay friends. Would it hurt him? Yeah, probably. But he would respect your wishes. You came first, after all. 

“Meet who?”

Pietro snapped out of his thoughts. 

“Oh,” he said, realizing he was still on the phone with Tony, “my friend’s kid. Her name’s Talia. She’s really into physics and science. Peter would like her. She turned seven a few months ago in December.” He replied. 

“Hmm,” was all Tony replied. There was suddenly a crashing noise. 

“Pep! What was that? Shit Maximoff, I gotta go.” Tony said. Pietro just snickered. 

“Bye, Tony.” Pietro laughed. He continued to laugh even when Tony flipped him off and ended the call. Bring Me The Horizon began to play again, and the intro began to kick in again. 

Pietro leaned back, his hands still on the steering wheel.

“Can you hear the silence… can you see the dark… can you fix the broken... Can you feel… can you feel my heart…” 

Pietro’s mood definitely soured once he got to the dropoff place. He walked into the warehouse, gun cocked in his hand. His blue eyes were sharper now. 

Harrison Thompson. He eyed the blonde-haired, blue-eyed man wearing his fancy suit. Harrison was usually here for alcohol. It was why he gambled with the mobs, after all. Not that Pietro appreciated it. He didn’t. He didn’t like the man at all. 

“Thompson,” Pietro greeted coolly as he slid into the chair across from the man. 

“Maximoff,” Harrison replied in surprise. “I was expecting Rogers or Barnes tonight.” He said. Pietro didn’t smile. His lips remained flat. 

“I’m afraid my leaders are stuck in a meeting tonight. Captain Rogers personally requested I do the dropoff tonight,” Pietro replied, twirling his pistol in between his fingers. Harrison resisted the urge to gulp. 

Quicksilver was not one to be messed with. Pietro was notorious in the mob to be quick, hence the name Quicksilver. He did drug deals in and out quickly. He and his twin sister Wanda had joined the mob long ago, gaining another family. 

The mob was certainly not a lifestyle to be desired by anyone, but Pietro knew going into the mob meant that he would be in it for life. He had accepted that when he first joined with Wanda. Now, he earned two more families. The mob was a shady business, but they were all family. They had each other’s backs. 

Always. 

“So,” Pietro drawled, putting his pistol down beside him on the table. He leaned over a little, looking at Harrison in the eyes. 

Harrison was really wishing someone else other than the eldest Maximoff twin was here. Quicksilver just creeped him out. Like a lot. 

“Tell me why a guy like you,” Pietro leaned back into his chair casually, “needs drugs. You already gamble with the mobs. You owe us a great debt, you know. Why are you here buying drugs when you owe us money, Harrison? Hmm?” He questioned. He tilted his head when he saw the man beginning to sweat.

“She knows,” Harrison’s voice was shaky. “Knows what?” Pietro repeated. “The debts. Lauren knows about the debts. She went through my things. And my brother asked for the drugs, I didn’t-” 

“Ah.” 

Harrison shivered. Pietro leaned close to him again, beginning to hold the pistol in his hand. 

“So your wife knows about your debts, and you were sent here like an errand boy because you’re a fucking wet wipe. Or a bitch boy, whichever you like,” shrugged Pietro, not that he cared. 

“So do you have the money?”

Harrison stopped. Froze. Was confused. 

“What?” he managed to croak out. Pietro leaned even closer, now leaning over the table. It allowed the other man to see how blue Pietro’s eyes were, something Wanda Django Maximoff, his twin, did not have. 

“The money. Do. You. Have. It.” Pietro replied slowly. 

There was silence. 

And then the sound of Pietro loading his pistol was heard. His eyes narrowed dangerously, almost becoming slits.

“I’ll take that as a no.” 

A loud gunshot was heard. Pietro heard Harrison scream. His pistol was smoking, and his gaze showed that the silver-haired man had shot him in the shoulder. Not enough to be too deep. Just a graze. A warning. 

“Next time,” Pietro hissed in his ear, “make sure you actually have the money on hand for the drugs to be handed over.” 

The door opened. Pietro turned, seeing the familiar green and yellow uniforms. And then he saw the octopus pin. His sharp gaze turned back to Harrison, but he was already crawling away. Another gunshot sound was heard. Harrison screamed again. This time, Pietro got him in the thigh. His gaze turned back to the Hydra agents. 

“Motherfuckers,” Pietro hissed.

All in all, you were having a nice night so far. You were currently in your room, sitting in your bed and catching up on the latest tea drama. You watched Angelika Oles recount the drama as you leaned back, sipping your own cup of tea. You were dressed in a sweater and sweatpants. You were very comfy. Your fluffy, comfy slippers were on the floor where you had left them, a few inches away from where you were sitting on your bed.

Putting your tea back on your nightstand, you were about to turn back to your TV, but then you heard it. 

Frantic pounding on your front door. It made the hairs on the back of your head raise. You quickly grabbed your remote, hitting pause. Then you scrambled out of bed, going downstairs into the kitchen and quickly grabbing a cast-iron pan from the cupboards quietly. You made your way to the front door, slowly opening the door as the pounding got louder. 

The door swung open. 

**“Princess! It’s just me!”**

“Pietro?” 

Daisy and Grant were off on a week-long vaca. They were heading to California for the week, to celebrate their sixth year anniversary and three-year engagement. Grant had bought tickets to Disney World and Universal Studios, since he knew your older sister hadn’t been there in a while, due to the mob. What could Daisy say? The mob was a busy life. And you didn’t want to intrude on the happy couple, so you politely declined to go.

You knew the real reason why Grant had asked your sister to go to California. 

Other than their anniversary, the dark-haired Romanian man knew that his soon-to-be-wife needed a distraction. 

Your mother’s death had impacted her just as much as you. Grant had not only been her fiancée but her rock. Her shoulder to cry on. Her best friend. Her number one supporter while she was going back to school for her Master’s. Daisy was the older one out of the two of you. You being twenty-one, while she was twenty-six. Ever since that faithful day of her mother finding you shivering and cold near the abandoned factory, the two of you had always been close. After her mother passed away, Daisy took it upon herself to make sure the two of you were still together.

Sure, you lived with Daisy and Grant in the same house. Sure, you always saw them together in the morning, being as a couple only should. Together. Laughing. Smiling at each other. Some part of you ached for that, too. You wanted to hold someone just like the way Grant held Daisy in the morning. You wanted someone to look at you the same way Grant looked at Daisy whenever she had her morning face on and someone who still smiled and laughed at Daisy’s rough morning voice the same way Grant did. 

You wanted Pietro to look at you the same way Grant looked at Daisy. You wanted Pietro to look and laugh at you with your morning voice the same way Grant did with Daisy.

But you couldn’t. You couldn’t do it. You knew you were in love with Pietro. You had been, for a long time. You didn’t know if there was a passing day where you weren’t in love with the man. But you couldn’t tell him of your feelings. You knew he felt the same way about you. But you couldn’t. 

You didn’t want to lose him. You couldn’t lose someone else you loved again. Not like how you lost you and Daisy’s mother, just a couple of months ago. 

No. 

It couldn’t happen. 

It just couldn’t. 

No matter how hard you secretly pinned for him. 

You couldn’t risk it. 

Pietro was breathing heavily, holding onto his stomach. When his hands came up, they were covered in his blood. 

**“Holy shit, Pietro! Get inside!”** You hissed in Ukrainian, ushering and helping the man inside your house. You closed the door and made sure to lock it before helping Pietro onto the couch. 

“How’d you even get here?” You hissed as you laid him down, taking off his shoes and putting them off to the side. 

“The car,” Pietro wheezed. He let out a grunt, squeezing his eyes shut tightly. It made your heart ache. 

“Did you get any blood on the car seat?” You questioned him. “Not a drop,” he grunted. You lifted up his shirt carefully, before gasping at his chest. 

He had a bullet stuck in his stomach, and one in his left shoulder. 

Thank goodness Pietro was right-handed. The left shoulder didn’t look as bad as the one lodged in his stomach though. You avoided looking at his abs. 

Nope. 

You were not going to make a fool of yourself. 

Not in front of Wanda’s brother. 

Besides, you knew Rebecca, Bucky Barnes, the leader of the Romanian and Russian mobs younger sister, would never let you live it down. She was your best friend. You practically told her everything. 

God, she would embarrass you for weeks on end if that happened. 

You even helped him out of his jeans, getting on your knees on the carpet, popping the button of his jeans, and pulling his zipper down, tossing them to the floor.

“You know **Princess,** if you wanted me naked, all you had to do was ask,” Pietro joked weakly, wincing when he moved a little. You gave him a look. Your cheeks burned in embarrassment. 

“Shut up,” you simply replied to him. You got up from your kneeled position and ran upstairs quickly to grab the medical kit. Your footsteps followed you back downstairs as you placed the medical kit down. 

“Shit!” You cursed. “The matches, I need to get the matches! Be right back Pietro,” you said. Pietro could only offer you a weak nod as you leaned over without even realizing it, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. Your footsteps carried you to the kitchen and the sounds of you rummaging through the drawers were heard. Pietro was still in shock. 

_Did… did that just happen?_ Pietro shifted uncomfortably, feeling himself harden in his boxer briefs. He tried to think of something to calm his erection, because you had finally found the box of matches, huffing to yourself in Ukrainian. 

**“Stupid fucking matches,”** he heard you grumbled underneath your breath. Pietro’s erection managed to calm down when you came back. You put the box of matches down, as well as a piece of paper towel for the bullets. You knelt down on your knees again, opening the medical kit and getting the tweezers. 

“Stay still,” you instructed him. Holding his bicep, you got the one in his stomach first. It was deeper, so it would take more time. Better than now than later to get it out. Pietro hissed in pain as you managed to pull it out, a painful groan slipping from his lips. 

“That’s one,” you spoke under your breath. “One more.” 

The tweezers went to the one in his left shoulder next. Luckily, he was laying with his left shoulder out, so you didn’t have to help him get up. Pietro grunted lowly, his eyes squeezing shut. You were no medical professional, but due to you being in the mob, you had to learn. Hence, the medical kit always being handy. 

“Almost there, Pietro. Then I’m going to sew it up and burn it shut. Ah, ah, careful-” you said, seeing him slowly move. You gently pushed him back in place. Pietro just hissed. 

You got the second, and last bullet out, putting it on the paper towel. Then you tore a small piece of it off, gently soaking it in the rubbing alcohol. Pietro had been bleeding badly. How he managed to drive all the way to your house, you had no clue. But in order to sew it up and burn it shut, you had to soak the area, Just a little. 

Pietro cursed loudly in Romani when the first pat touched his skin. 

**“Shit!”** he roared. You winced. Pietro snarled in pain. He gripped the cushion tight, and you saw his knuckles turn white. You patted his left shoulder just as gently as you did on his stomach. Then you got the sewing kit and threading through the needle, you began to sew. 

This took a while. Simply because you wanted to make sure it was precise. Clean. You watched the needle thread through his skin carefully. Once you were done with his stomach, you moved to his shoulder. Once his shoulder was done, you grabbed the box of matches. Taking out a match, you struck the head of the match against the side of the box, watching as the flame was lit. Carefully, you closed his wounds shut. Pietro sighed in relief, and a little bit in pain, laying back blissfully on the couch as you blew out the match. 

“There,” you said, a look of relief also on your face, “all done.”

Pietro gave you an almost loopy smile, beginning to feel sleepy. 

“Thanks, nurse,” he joked weakly before his eyes started to flutter closed. You watched as his face relaxed and he slowly fell asleep. Soft snores came from him. You couldn’t resist the urge to smile. 

So you did. 

A warm smile spread over your face as you watched him sleep. Carefully and quietly, you put everything back in its proper places. Box of matches in the kitchen drawers. Sewing kit in the linen closet upstairs. Medical kit back in the medical cabinet behind the mirror in your bathroom.

Because no duh you had your own bathroom. The Johnson-Ward household was a three-bedroom, two-bathroom home, complete with an upstairs. It wasn’t quite like the Romanoff-Barton mansion, but it was home. Had a living room, a kitchen, everything you needed really. You wouldn’t trade it for the world. 

As you quietly crept your way back downstairs, you saw that Pietro was still sleeping on the couch. His clothes still on the floor. You inwardly cursed. You picked up the now bloodied shirt. It was dry and crusty. Pietro wouldn’t be able to wear it again. You needed to burn it. His jeans, too. They were also covered in blood. Dried and crusty. 

You peered over at the fireplace that was below the big, flat-screen TV that Grant had bought a year ago. The fireplace was nicely guarded, and the three of you always made sure to keep the fireplace contained and safe. Then you looked back at Pietro’s clothes. 

Yup. You were turning off the heater. Angelika Oles could wait. You were sleeping on the couch tonight.

When Pietro woke up the next morning, he smelled something, as if something had been burned overnight. He managed to open his eyes, groaning at the sunlight that was pouring in. His phone laid on the coffee table in the living room. Hand reaching over, he managed to unlock it with his thumb. 

Five missed calls from Natasha. 

Ten missed calls from Wanda. 

Fifty plus missed messages from the groupchat. He scrolled through them, before initiating a group call. The line beeped.

“Oh my god, Pietro!” he heard Wanda cry out. 

“Dude, are you alright man?” He heard Clint exclaim. 

“Oh thank goodness,” he heard Natasha’s voice from Clint’s line. 

“Holy shit. Pietro. You’re alive, thank fucking god.” He heard Steve sigh in relief. 

“Language Stevie,” he heard Bucky snicker. Everyone laughed, regardless if they were fully awake or not. 

“One time! That was one time!” Steve protested weakly. 

“Where are you, Pietro?” Wanda cut to the chase. 

“I’m at Daisy’s sister’s house. The drug deal went south. I’m thinking it was an ambush,” Pietro groaned. 

“An ambush?” Steve sounded worried. And then Pietro began to explain. 

You had woken up earlier than Pietro. 

The fire had been put out.

His clothes had been successfully burned. 

You had washed your face. Pietro needed to be cleaned up, but you had already showered last night. You had finished the tea video in the wee early morning with a fresh cup of tea in hand. 

As you made your way downstairs, you heard loud arguing. 

Did Pietro invite people over or something? You didn’t remember him calling anyone else. As you reached the living room, you realized, the arguing was coming from his phone. 

“... Why those little-” Wanda’s voice shouted. You heard Natasha Romanoff-Barton shout something loudly in Russian. 

Pietro had put his entire family on fucking speaker. You stood there at the bottom of the stairs, gobsmacked as the members of Pietro’s family continued to shout. 

He noticed you. 

“Um, guys…” Pietro trailed off. There were still some shouts. 

“Guys! I’ll be fine. Daisy’s sister’s here, yeah, I’ll come home soon, uh-huh, thanks, bye.” He hung up quickly. He slammed his phone back on the coffee table. You continued to gawk at him. 

Then you cleared your throat. 

"Shower. I'll help you upstairs."

It was official. 

Pietro hated being shot. 

You had helped him upstairs to your bathroom, which was right across from your room. You had him stand while you started the shower. Pietro watched as you peeled off your sweater, revealing your tank top under. Then you pulled your sweatpants off, leaving you in your panties. 

Your cheeks colored as you realized what he thought you were doing. 

“I’m only doing this so I can help,” you spoke with a hard flush to your cheeks, “I don’t trust you alone in the shower. And besides- your stitches.” Pietro didn’t know rather to smirk or snicker. 

So he did both. Your lips fell into a scowl. You actually scowled. 

“Don’t laugh. I’m not the one who had injured,” you said, pointing a finger at him.

Pietro rolled his eyes. 

“Blame Steve,” was all he said in response as you helped him in the shower. His boxer briefs hide his modesty as he felt the warm water on his skin. Pietro let out a groan. After getting shot and having a shitty night, a warm shower was all he needed. He heard you step into the shower behind him, watching out of the corner of his eye as you grabbed your loofa, lathering it with your body wash. 

“Hope you don’t mind smelling like me for the rest of the day,” you said as you began to wash his back, being careful of his left shoulder. 

Pietro didn’t mind.

He didn’t mind at all. 

If anything, he was more than happy to smell like you. 

It would put him in a good mood for the rest of the day.

Pietro tried his hardest not to move as much as you scrubbed his back. You got on your knees as you moved your loofa down towards his legs, and then down to his feet. You didn’t stare at his dick through his boxer briefs.

No. 

You didn’t dare to. 

You didn’t want to do that to Wanda. You weren’t going to be a creep. 

You were on your knees, bent over as you scrubbed the back of his heels and his feet. 

“Turn around,” you said, “I need to get your front now.” Pietro turned around, his front facing you as you looked up at him. You gazed up at those blue eyes that you had fallen in love with when you first met him at a mob gathering. It had been his first with Wanda. You knew when you locked eyes with him, that you were a goner. Allowing those thoughts to simmer in your mind, you began to scrub upwards towards his stomach, beginning to get back up on your feet. You made sure to be careful around the wound. You made your way upwards to his sculpted chest, ignoring the urge to look back down, sneak a peek at his abs.

Nope. 

Pietro was taller than you, nearly almost a foot taller, so you still had to look up at him. Pietro stared into your eyes. It made you want to shiver. You were careful around his left shoulder, because of his wound. 

“You want me to wash your hair too?” You asked quietly. 

“No,” Pietro replied to you, his voice a little rough. “I gotta use a specific shampoo because of my hair dye. I just got it redone a couple of days ago. I’ll wash my hair when I get home.” You nodded. Good enough. You didn’t want to lie and say you didn’t want to know how his hair would feel in your hands. 

Because you did. You wanted to see if those dyed silver locks were just as soft underneath your fingertips as they looked. 

Now that you were finished cleaning him up properly, you squeezed all of the body wash from your loofa and made sure it was clear of any body wash, and put it back on the shower caddy. You had already laid out one of your old t-shirts on the floor so the carpet wouldn’t get wet. You started making your way to the door.

“Where are you going?” 

Pietro looked confused. Weren’t you going to finish showering with him? He tilted his head to the side, confused. You looked back at him. He looked like a lost puppy. 

If you weren’t so embarrassed, you would’ve called him adorable. 

“I’m going to go make breakfast. Unless you’re not staying,” you shrugged. “No,” he replied, “I’ll stay for breakfast.” 

“Okay,” you hummed, “I’ll just… leave you.” Then you opened the door, allowing the steam to hiss out, and stepped onto your old t-shirt. You shivered. The door closed behind you. 

A change of clothes. You needed a change of clothes. 

You were a huge fan of breakfast. So was Pietro. You had made pancakes, eggs, sausages, and the shkvarky, which was basically fried pork fat that you put on top of your eggs. You had a huge batch from when Grant had brought some pork to freeze after a mob gathering. Most of it was cut up now. The excess amounts of pork fat were saved for breakfast, and the amount you made could’ve been considered a side dish. You had made it with some salt and pepper. 

The two of you ate in silence. You had brought some of Grant’s clothes for Pietro to wear since he no longer had any more of his clothes. His hair was still a little bit damp, clinging to the sides of his face. You couldn’t help but sneak a glance at him when he wasn’t looking, quietly admiring how his eyes shone against his toffee skin tone. 

Pietro Maximoff was just pretty. Sometimes it was really unfair how attractive he looked. Your phone pinged. 

**_The Three G’s Groupchat_ **

**_Daisy Johnson has sent a photo_ **

**_Daisy: Missing u. wish u were here sis_ **

It was a picture of Grant and Daisy at the It’s A Small World ride, both smiling up at the camera. You couldn’t help but smile. 

**_You: Grant sick and tired of the song yet???_ **

**_Grant: It was the most annoying 10 mins of my life. pls help_ **

You snickered. 

“Texting your sister and Grant?” Pietro asked as he came back up from inhaling your food. He loved your cooking. From your eggs to the sausages, to the shkvarky- everything was good. He’d eat your cooking for the rest of his life if he could. 

“Uh-huh,” you replied, “they’re on their week-long vaca. They’re at Disney World right now.” Pietro hummed. He took another piece of sausage in his mouth and drank his orange juice. You finished your breakfast, beginning to get up from the island and walking to the sink. Your plate and fork made a clanging noise in the sink. Pietro’s own phone began to go off. He checked his phone. 

Steve and Bucky were giving their usual marching orders for the day. He sighed as he slipped his phone back into his pocket. 

He didn’t want to leave you. Not now. You were just able to pick up his own empty plate before you looked at him, a look of concern on your face. 

“Are you okay, Pietro?” You asked. Pietro just looked at you. Studied your face. You had applied a fresh layer of makeup on, but not too much. Eyebrows filled in a little, mascara swiped on to make your lashes look darker, a red tint to your lips. Blush on your cheeks to put some color back into your face.

To him, you were perfect. Even if you didn’t have any makeup on, he’d still call you perfect. 

“Steve and Bucky just texted me my marching duties for the day,” the silver-haired man said, a grunt leaving his lips when you helped him up. You put his plate, along with his fork in the sink and walked him to the door. 

It was only right to escort him to the door. Your mother had taught you that much while she had been alive. You helped him put his shoes on. He was about to open the door. He turned to look at you.

It happened so quickly, you didn’t know how to explain it. Pietro had closed the gap between the two of you, his lips brushing over yours. You had still been in shock. So when he started kissing you, your mouth seemed to open in shock. You gasped into his mouth, his tongue licking at your teeth. He tasted the eggs you made. His tongue swiped at the roof of your mouth. Hands on your shoulders, you squeaked as your back hit the front door. His fingers threaded in your hair, feeling your hair in between his fingertips.

Pietro’s phone began to buzz in his pocket. It made you snap out of the little bubble, pulling away and gently pushing him back. His phone buzzed even louder. 

“What…” Pietro breathed out, confused. Your eyes were wide, almost blown. His were too. You pointed to his back pocket. He pulled out his phone. His caller ID showed that Wanda was calling him. 

Pulling out his phone, he answered his twin. 

“Wan?” He replied.

“Pietro! We need you at the house. Vis and I are headed there now,” he heard Wanda pant over the phone. It sounded like they were on the road. He looked at you. 

He didn’t want to leave you. 

Not yet. 

But his family needed him. 

You nodded. 

“Okay,” Pietro replied, “yeah, yeah, I’m coming. Uh-huh. Okay. Uh-huh. Bye.” He hung up. He looked at you, pleading for you to tell him to stay, just a little longer. 

“Go. They need you.” You said. He could feel his heart sinking. “But-” He protested. But you had already opened the door, ushering him out with the keys to the SUV. The two of you were at the doorstep.

“Thank you for joining me for breakfast, Pietro. But you’ve really got to go-” and because you were a certified dumbass, you tiptoed up to kiss his cheek again. Your cheeks colored. But he was still determined. You could only gasp his lips brushed against yours again, greedier this time. A little bit harder. Your fingers latched onto his lock, pulling his face down. You let out a soft little moan.

You heard Jemma Fitz, your older sister’s best friend and the wife of Leo Fitz coming out of her house next door. She gasped loudly. 

“Fitz! Pietro and Daisy’s sister is kissin’! Grant owes me twenty bucks!” Jemma shouted loudly. You squeaked and immediately pulled back. You were panting, your red-tinted lips redder now. Pietro’s eyes were dark. 

“You- you need to go,” you shoved him out more, despite his protests. You began to hear Jemma and Fitz in their house, talking loudly. Jemma must’ve texted Daisy because your phone started going off in the kitchen. 

“Wait-” Pietro protested, but you weren’t going to give up. 

“Please,” you begged. Pietro looked at you. 

And kissed you one more time. Then he pulled away, smirking at your dazed face. 

“Have a good day, **Princess,** ” Pietro spoke casually as if he didn’t totally suck your face off moments before. You still looked dazed, only giving him a faint nod.

You only snapped out of it when Pietro got back into the SUV, trying not to grunt due to his stitches. You completely snapped out of it when he started the engine. Your cheeks flushed. You almost kicked yourself for acting like such an idiot.

Pietro pulling out of the Johnson-Ward driveway was when Jemma and Fitz came over. The brunette-haired woman, dressed in her Yankee sweater and blue jeans and Gucci pumps ran over to you and hugged you tight. Fitz was dressed more casually, looking at his Michael Korrs watch. He adjusted his shirt, black jeans hugging his legs, and black boots on his feet.

“Oh, did you make breakfast?” Jemma asked excitedly, practically bouncing off the walls. You gave her a slow nod. 

“Good! We can talk over breakfast! Oooh, you made shkvarky! I’ve been craving that shit,” Jemma spoke as she waltzed into the house. Fitz just sighed, shaking his head. 

“Come on. I’m starving too.”

The front door closed.

**_A few months later…_ **

It was safe to say that you were not prepared to see Pietro Maximoff again after that. 

You had gotten really busy with Daisy and Grant’s wedding over the past few months. Planning, making the food, making sure the food was brought over properly. 

And the guest list, good lord. The guest list was long.

You didn’t know if you could handle it anymore. But as you looked up from the big batch of varenyky, the Ukrainian version of pelmeni, you saw him. 

Your heart thudded in your chest. His silver hair was clipped back. His blue eyes landed on yours, and he smirked.

The little shit had the audacity to smirk at you! Your cheeks flushed. Scattered Ukrainian, Romanian, and Russian were echoed around the kitchen. Pietro walked to stand by the ice chest and helped a fellow member of the Romanian mob to put the sarmale and mici in the ice chest. 

This time, you looked at his abs. You saw how they ripped through his shirt. Your cheeks burned even more. 

“... Can you give this to Pietro?” A woman from the Romanian mob handed you some mici. “Uh-huh,” you replied, still a little dazed. It was put in your hands and your feet carried you over to Pietro. He gave you a smirk. 

**“Long time no see, huh Princess?”**

Your cheeks were still burning. You stammered and looked up at him. Pietro was giving you the most shit-eating grin. 

**“What? Cat got your tongue?”** he tilted his head in a teasing way. You spluttered. You handed him the mici and huffed. He only snickered. Then his gaze fell back on you. 

“Grab a coffee with me. After this,” Pietro gestured to the current chaos, “is over. I’ll take you to my favorite spot.” he said. You swallowed, feeling the butterflies in your stomach. Still, your lips curled up into a smile. Pietro felt like his body was going to burst. His stomach and left arm fully healed from the gunshot wounds from those few months ago. 

And then he kissed you again. 

“Oh my god! Holy shit! What are you doing, Pietro? Get back to work!” You heard a familiar voice shout. 

You squeaked and pulled away. Rebecca Barnes, Bucky Barnes’ younger sister was in the doorway, gasping. She pointed a finger at you. 

“Tell me everything.”


End file.
